Work Makes You Tired.
Work Is Dangerous.
Work Dissolves Grey Matter.
Work is a peril.
Work Kills.
Work Makes Your Arms Ache.
Work Makes You Hungry.
Just got back from work. Hope you noticed the time on this entry cos it sure as hell ain't early. Or late. Depending how you want to look at it. The company bus drive got completely lost going to my house and when we got there we conveniently sailed past my house because he was on the phone and didn't hear me screaming TURN RIGHT TURN RIGHT. Brings "so near yet so far" to a whole new dimension. I was practically at my house already for goodness' sake. Next time hand me the wheel.
Saw a Lamborghini Gallardo boom past in a bass rumble of V-10 thunder after work. That's what I call proper motoring. Not some second-rate Corolla with a bit of bodykit and fancy rims slapped on. Italian cavallini any day.
Last day of work tomorrow before I rest me poor aching arms and settle down for the rest of the week. I seem to be talking a lot about work these few days right. Probably because I feel quite strongly about it. Joyce seems to be enjoying herself at her outlet and I think I am too. The people here and nice, friendly, very understanding and totally forgiving toward a rookie like myself, even though I did give a shot at attempting a Lewis Hamilton-style takeover of the joint and shocking everyone.
Alas.
Audrey has taken it upon herself to give 3 of us nicknames. I shall let you guess which.
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